


two player game

by tylexe



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Peter Parker, Brad is Jake, Eventual Smut, F/M, Inspired by Be More Chill, M/M, MJ is Christine, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Ned Leeds, Quentin is Brooke, Tony is the squip, Wade is Chloe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-05-20 18:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19382536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylexe/pseuds/tylexe
Summary: my tumblr is @starkerpoolbxbe !!!i ended up adding to this chapter oops





	1. boyf riends

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @starkerpoolbxbe !!!
> 
> i ended up adding to this chapter oops

"If you wash that off, you're *dead,* Parker," spat Eugene, followed by the click of a marker cap being closed, and his footsteps as he and his accomplice, Brad, walked away.  
Peter sighed in exasperation, rubbing at the circles under his eyes before proceeding forward to meet his best friend, Ned, at the empty table they'd always sit at.  
At arrival, he all but threw himself onto that little bench attached to the table, folding his arms atop the table, and burying his face within them.  
It wasn't long, though, before he heard Ned's (somehow) cheerful voice as he approached  
"Peter!" He chirped, pulling his headphones down to rest upon his shoulders, after setting his slushie down on the table, and seating himself alongside Peter, who turned his head to look up at his friend.  
"Hey."  
"Peter! The girl at 7-11, she- hey, man, are you okay? You look like shit."  
Peter laughed a little, nodding to the best of his abilities, with his head on the table.  
"Thanks, man. Yeah, I'm good."  
Ned, very apparently not convinced, laid his head down to match Peter's, emitting a quiet laugh from the smaller boy.  
"What's wrong, Pete?"  
"I wrote Michelle a letter."  
"That's progress!" Ned practically beamed, immediately sitting back up.  
Peter followed suit, running a hand through his hair.  
"Yeah, I tore it up and flushed it."  
"Oh."  
"'S still progress."

"Hey, why try being cool, now, anyway? We have plenty of fun on our own, and I bet in college, Michelle will be--"  
"Signing up for the play." Peter suddenly perked up.  
"Well, I was gonna say she'd be all over you, but she might-"  
"No, look!"  
Peter placed a hand on either side of Ned's face, turning his head in the direction of a sign up sheet for an upcoming after school play, hanging on the wall.  
"Ooh. Are you gonna sign up?"  
"'M way ahead of you," Peter exclaimed, leaving his bag behind, once MJ had left, to cautiously approach the sign up sheet.  
It had been easier than he'd anticipated - until he heard laughter, and Eugene's voice behind him, shouting "gay!" that is.  
After that, he was relatively quick to make his way back to the table, returning to his previous position, with his head rested atop his arms.  
"Peter? This might be a bad time, but, um, wash your backpack?"  
Peter lifted his head with an irritable groan, only to drop it back down with a hard 'thud' when Ned presented their backpacks, side by side to him.  
"I hate this school."


	2. it's from japan

"I told you not to wash that off,"  
barked Eugene, emphasizing his words with a shove to the middle of Peter's back, pushing him forward, and emitting a yelp.  
"I'm talking to you, fag."  
"Why do you call me that? I'm not even- I'm not gay."  
Peter sighed, grabbing for the bag he'd previously attempted to wash, and heading for a stall.  
Eugene laughed, watching the taller boy as he made his way to a urinal, himself.  
"You sure act like one, huh? With those girly little squeals, the way you're always hunched over and shy, like you're trying to hide - You're only further proving my point by trying to hide from me in a stall. Stalls are for girls. Are you a girl, Peter?"  
Peter stopped, having decided against going into the stall, after that.  
"How do you- how are you talking to me when you're--? You know."  
"Confidence,"  
Eugene replied, with the slightest of nods, the corners of his lips curling into a cocksure smirk.  
"You might wanna watch the floor,"  
Peter suggested, averting his gaze, when he'd caught himself looking in that direction.  
Eugene stepped back, holding his head in his hands with a seemingly uncomfortably tight grip.  
"I just remembered, I don't have t--"  
"Don't. Move."  
Eugene finally removed his hands, whipping himself around, and stepping closer to Peter.  
"You don't remember me freshman year, do you?"  
"Flash, you didn't-- you weren't here freshman year."  
"Yes, I was!" Eugene shouted, apparently a little distraught.  
"You just didn't notice."  
He sighed, allowing himself a moment to calm down, before speaking again.  
"No one did."  
Peter cocked his head.  
"Huh? How'd you get so--"  
"Shut it."  
Peter only nodded in response, biting his bottom lip, and waiting for Eugene to continue.  
"I was a loser, just like you, you know. Maybe even worse. Terrible sexting, girls wouldn't come within fifty feet of me. My little - well, not exactly little - penis was /so/ lonely, Peter. You know how that feels."  
Peter furrowed his brows, opening his mouth to retort, but he quickly stopped himself.  
He didn't need any more bruises.  
"I tripped over air, which, by the way, I've seen you do /a lot./ I couldn't utter a sentence without stuttering- again, just like you. D'you know how I fixed it all?"  
Peter only shook his head, much too intimidated by Eugene to respond verbally.  
"Do you?"  
A light kick to his shin, and Peter all but squealed, shaking his head with a vaguely frantic "no, how?"  
"I got a squip."  
"You got- you got quick?"  
"No, dipshit. /Squip./"  
"Sorry, I've just never heard of-"  
"That's the point! This is some top secret, can't even look it up on the internet shit!"  
Eugene practically beamed.  
"It's from Japan. It's a grey, oblong pill; quantum nanotechnology CPU. The quantum computer in the pill will travel through your blood, until it implants in your brain, and it tells you what to do."  
"So... It's like... Drugs?"  
"It's better than drugs, Peter. It's from Japan."  
"Where can I get a- a squip?"


	3. be more chill

After taking Ned to meet up with a considerably shady man to retrieve the squip (and, disappointingly enough, being told they couldn't half it,) Peter had taken it, and, despite what the man had told him, he was beginning to wonder if he hadn't taken it correctly.  
That was, until he (oh so painfully) made Peter's aquaintence.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor - your squip."

Peter, after a good few minutes of staring in awe, slowly, cautiously stood, stepping closer to said figure.  
"Huh. So you're-"  
"Mm, that won't do. Stand up straighter - arch your back."  
He emphasized his words with a light, barely there shock to Peter's back, and Peter did as told almost immediately.  
"Good. Now, hands out of your pockets, and don't stand so stiffly. You look like a masturbator."  
"But- but I am a masturbator."  
"We'll fix that."  
"What? You don't get t--"  
"Excuse me?"  
The squip stepped forward, roughly grasping his host's jaw.  
"I will do what is necessary to achieve our goal, and you, unless you'd like to suffer the consequences of disobeying, will submit. Understood?"  
"I- uh, w-hat?"  
A sigh.  
"We've got a lot of work ahead of us, don't we? Stop stammering, and I believe I asked you a question,"  
His grip tightened on Peter's jaw, emitting a vague whimper.  
"Do you understand?"  
"Y- yes, sir."  
The squip hummed in approval, releasing his hold on his host to adjust his cufflinks.  
"You may call me Tony - though, I quite like the sound of sir, too."  
Peter opened his mouth to quip back, but he stopped himself, deciding that most likely wasn't the best idea.  
"Good boy," praised Tony, and Peter shuddered.  
"Now, let's get you some new clothes, yeah? Nerdiness isn't particularly attractive."  
"I thought I was more of a geek, but-"  
"You're gonna have to stop that."  
"Stop- stop what?"  
"Commenting on everything- or, really, anything I say."  
"I just don't understand."  
The Squip sighed, again.  
"You don't need to understand. Don't think. Don't speak. Just listen. Obey. Can you do that, Peter?"  
"I don't-"  
"You can. Shirt, now."  
Peter released a long, exasperated sigh, slumping over in the process, only to receive a sharp, stinging shock, starting at his shoulders, and running down his spine, causing him to hiss painfully, and straighten up immediately.  
"Ow! What the fuck?"  
"You'll need to be more respectful than that, Peter, and you shouldn't need reminding to stand up straight. I only told you a few seconds ago."  
"Fine, but that was--"  
"What did I /just/ say, Peter? Maybe another could serve as a reminder? That was barely anything, you know--"  
"No! Okay, I'm sorry, please- please don't."  
"Good. Proceed."

"...That's a girls' shirt."  
"So? I think it's cool."

"Pe- Pedro? Was it Pedro?" Wade turned to Quentin for confirmation, as the two approached Peter, only to shrug, moments later.  
"Whatever. Cute shirt."  
"Uh, Peter, it's- it's P--"  
"Is that a girls' shirt?"  
"Uh, n-"  
"-Yes."  
"Yes...?"  
"Repeat after me."  
Peter absently repeated Tony's explanation to the two, (something about Gwen having cheated on him, he didn't catch most of it.)

"Sweetheart?"  
"Y-eah?"  
Quentin hummed, stepping forward to cup Peter's chin, shamelessly examining him, and leaning forward so their faces were mere inches apart.

"Quentin is going to offer you a ride. It is /imperative/ that you accept."

"Do you want a ride, honey?"  
"Say yes."  
"Yes... But! Um, I'm- I'm supposed to meet my friend, Ned."  
Peter reluctantly took a step back, visibly fidgeting.  
Wade chuckled. "He's cute, isn't he?"

"Peter," Tony warned.

"I-"  
"Come on, baby boy," Wade purred. "Ned gets to see you all the time. Let us get to know you better, yeah?"  
"Okay," Peter breathed.  
"Good. We'll get you home in no time."  
"There /is/ a catch, though," Wade exclaimed.  
"Wh-"  
Quentin chuckled under his breath, bringing a hand up to stroke Peter's cheek.  
"Relax, honey. We've just gotta stop at Pinkberry. Is that okay?"  
"I- yeah. Okay."


	4. you killed eminem?

While in the car with Quentin and Wade, Peter had become increasingly uncomfortable with their flirting.  
It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to them, just that he wasn't used to the attention - especially not from guys like them.  
He'd opted to sit quietly, save for a few uncontrollable whines, when they'd touch him, or say something especially flustering, rather than responding, despite Tony's constant reminders of what he was supposed to be doing.

Needless to say, they'd talked, once Peter was home.

"Peter, you can't just listen, do you understand? You have to obey. You could really fuck yourself over, disobeying me like that, you know?"  
"But I--"  
"Peter," the squip warned, and Peter's mouth snapped shut at that.  
"Good," he sighed. "Repeat after me, now, okay?"  
Tony, surprisingly gently, pushed Peter backwards to have him sit on his bed, looking down at him, and adjusting his glasses thoughtfully.  
"Everything about you is so terrible."  
"I- I can't-"  
"Peter."  
The boy swallowed thickly.  
"Everything about me is just terrible," he repeated shakily, looking down at his feet.  
"Good. Look at me."  
Peter hesitantly obliged, looking up at the squip with now watery, hooded eyes.  
"Everything about you makes me wanna die."  
"E- everything about me makes me wanna die," he uttered, afterwards choking on an upcoming sob.  
"You've got it."  
Tony smiled all too sweetly, patting his host's shoulder approvingly.  
"But soon you'll see, if you listen to me, everything about you is going to be /wonderful./ You won't feel left out, or unsure, you won't have to worry about /anything./ Don't you want that, Peter?"  
"I- yeah, of course, but-"  
"Come on, wouldn't it be worth anything to live like that?"  
"I don't know, I guess, maybe-"  
"Everything about you is going to be cool. You'll be powerful, and popular, and confident. You will--"  
"--Be more chill! I mean- chill..."

Later that night, after quite a while of doing nothing but thinking, Peter lie atop his bed, grinning giddily.  
"I'm-- I'm gonna be... Super chill."  
Tony's lips curled into a sideways smirk, and he chuckled, pulling Peter's covers up over his shoulders.  
"Alright. Sleep well, slugger. You've got a big day ahead of you, tomorrow."

The next morning, Peter jolted awake, into a sitting position.  
"I-- did that--"  
He allowed himself a moment to think, before tapping at his temple.  
"Hellooo? Are you on? Helloooooo??"

"Are you talking to yourself?" Came May's voice, and Peter turned to see her standing in his bedroom doorway, shrugging.  
"I... Guess I am? Huh."  
When May turned to leave, Peter reminded her to shut the door, reaching beside his bed for his laptop, when she did.

"Come on... Come--"  
A particularly painful shock to his left hand had him dropping his laptop with a yelp, only to groan in exasperation, when the pain had worn off.  
"What the hell?"  
"What did we say about masturbation, Peter?"  
"I was just going to... To check my email."  
"You can't lie to me, Peter, I'm inside your brain. We're going to devise a system. Everytime you think about sex, that's how many push-ups you'll do. If this morning is an indicative sample, you should have pecs in no time. By the way, wear that Eminem shirt, today."  
"Come on, please just--"

"Coming through, Petey."  
"That's the source of your genetic material?"  
"Well, she's my aunt--"  
"Maybe you won't need those push-ups, after all."

"Hey, faggot! Where's my money?"  
"Shit, what do I tell Flash?"  
"Up up down down left right A."  
Eugene jolted.  
"Hey, man, are you oka--"  
"You got one!" He beamed.  
"I-- yeah. Sorry, I- I meant to go through you, but-- please don't hit me!"  
"Peter, this is awesome! I mean- I could've used the money, things are pretty rough at home, but-"  
"I- my...aunt drinks, too?"  
Where did that come from?  
Eugene grinned.  
"Hey, fuckin' parents, right? My mom usually passes out by nine. You should come over, play X-box, you know with a squip, the only controller you need is your mind?"

"What was that about?"  
"I synced with his squip. Now, his desires are compatible with your own."  
"And that makes him act like we're... Friends?"  
"What is friendship, but a bond between two people? Now, you and Eugene have a bond. It's just... Digital."

Wade hummed, approaching Michelle, who sat lonesome in play rehearsal - though, that wasn't unusual, for her, really.  
"Is this seat taken?"  
"Oh, yeah, it's--"  
Wade shrugged, seating himself alongside her, anyway.  
"Well, okay-"  
"Liz said she saw you at the mall, with Brad, last night."  
"Uh, yeah, so? That's actually who this seat is saved for--"  
"Liz?"  
"I'm right here!"  
"No, it's for Brad, dipshit."  
Wade laughed. "Brad's not coming."  
"Oh. Is he sick?"  
He's at Model U.N. or whatever it is this week. You know Brad; always jumping from one... Extracurricular to another."  
"I don't know him that well. It's... It's funny you think I care, either."  
"Well, he likes to try new things, he just doesn't always--"  
"We're just friends, Wade,"  
Michelle sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "I know you guys used to date? So, if that's what this is about..."  
"Oh, /god,/ no, that Zayn Malik looking ass and I are over."  
"Yeah, he's a douche," Quentin piped in.  
"He's not a douche, Quen. ...well-- anyway, I'm glad you guys are just friends, because I would /hate/ for you to think he's just bored of you, already." Wade laughed to himself, before finally standing, to Michelle's relief, and leaving with Quentin and Liz.  
"Bye!"

Peter tensely approached Michelle, very apparently fidgeting, and keeping his eyes fixated on the ground.  
"Um... Is- is this seat taken?"  
"I... Don't know."  
"Then, how about I sit here, until whoever else shows up?"  
He huffed frustratingly, at realization that Tony had forced words from his mouth, again.  
"Sure. You good?"  
"What?"  
"At the mall, yesterday, you were acting... Weird."  
"Performance art."  
"Stop doing that!"  
"Oh. Cool."

"So, um, how's Brad?"  
"How would I know?"  
"You guys aren't... Going out?"  
Michelle scoffed. "No."  
"Really?" Peter all but shouted, only to cower down, when he'd noticed everyone staring, at that.  
"Sorry."  
Michelle giggled quietly. "It's fine."

"Mr. Parker!" Mr. Fury shouted. "Your script is closed, which I can only assume means you've memorized your part. Please, regale us, unless you're simply wasting our--"  
Peter involuntary stood, carelessly throwing his script onto the chair he previously sat in, and easily recited his part, speaking as though possessed.  
"I- well! It seems the rest of you could learn from Mr. Parker's commitment to the craft. Hot Pocket break!"  
"What the fuck?"  
"You're welcome," Tony quipped smugly.

"Hot Pocket break over, brats!" Peter heard Fury announce, after minutes of listening to Michelle gush over her crush, only for her to, to his dismay, reveal that it was Brad.  
"Warning, warning," Tony exclaimed, as he puppeted Peter's body out of rehearsal, and finally outside of the school.

"What was that about?"  
"I'm sorry, but this girl /clearly/ does not view you as relationship material."  
"I know! That's why I got /you,/ asshole!"  
"Don't forget your place, Peter, and you're sure you want /her?/ There are many females at this school. I'm accessing footage from the girls' volleyball practice. It's very impressive."  
"I want MJ."  
"You're sure about that?"  
Peter crossed his arms, almost pouting, despite his attempt at appearing assertive.  
A sigh. "Very well."  
"So how can I get her?"  
"You can't."  
"What?"  
"...Yet. Becoming the kind of man to impress Michelle requires more than working out a few bugs. You're a fucking mess, Peter."  
"Huh?"  
"You need to get popular. Tear ducts activate."  
To his own confusion, Peter began sobbing uncontrollably, leaning against the brick wall of the school for support.  
"Peter! I've been looking for you."  
Quentin approached the smaller, gently wrapping his arms around his torso.  
"I'm-" Peter cut himself off with a sob. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm crying?"  
"I do."  
A sniffle.  
"Wha- what?"  
"And I completely understand. They're saying it was a freak hockey accident."  
"What are you talking about?"  
"Oh my god. You don't know. Eminem's dead!"  
"Wh- what-" Peter cut himself off, yet again, with a constant string of loud sobs.  
Quentin sighed, pushing Peter's head down to rest on his shoulder, and comfortingly stroking a hand through his hair.  
"I mean, I was never really into him, because he's really old, and kind of a douche, but I knew you liked him..."  
Quentin continued speaking, as Peter turned his head on the older's shoulder to look at Tony.  
"Did- did you know?"  
"Of course not."  
"So it's a coincidence you told me to wear this shirt today?"  
"Of course not."  
"Wait- did you- did you /kill/ Eminem?"  
"Noooo...t exactly. Don't worry about it, kid."  
Peter froze when Quentin leaned over to kiss his forehead, his face heating up all too easily.  
"It's okay, sweetheart. You don't have to be alone, right now."

"You need to become popular. Here's a popular boy, who likes you. You need to go where he leads."

"This is my favorite spot behind the school."  
Quentin hummed, sitting down along the trunk of a tree, and pulling Peter down to sit in his lap, emitting a nervous whine from Peter, in turn, causing Quentin to laugh fondly.  
"You're adorable."


	5. do you wanna hang?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> borderline rape warning !!!!

Peter spent a considerable amount of time with Quentin, and, while he loathed to admit it, had grown to like him quite a bit.  
He leaned back against the taller's torso, still situated in his lap, though, he was less nervous about it, now, and opened his mouth to speak, only for it to gape, when he'd caught sight of Michelle and Brad, through the window.  
He groaned in frustration, beginning to stand, only for Quentin to pull him back down, almost immediately.  
"Where're you going, Petey pie?"  
"I was just- I need to- use the restroom...?"  
"Don't lie to me. Come on, talk to me, sweet boy."  
"I can't--"  
"You can," Quentin insisted with a soft, vague smile, lifting Peter's chin with his index finger. "You can tell me anything. No judgement, I promise."  
"I- it's just-- Michelle-"  
The older laughed at that, spreading his hand out to gently but firmly grip Peter's jaw.  
"You're jealous of Brad, right?"  
"N- no, I-"  
"You are. I know you like her. Don't worry about it, yeah? I'm not mad at you."  
The boy released a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing.  
"Can't say I'm not a little jealous, though."  
"I- I'm sorry-"  
"Nothing to be sorry about, honey."  
Quentin's smile widened a little, and he leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Peter's lips, before releasing his hold on his jaw.  
Peter whimpered embarrassingly, much louder than he would've liked, and Quentin hummed in amusement.  
"/God,/ you're /really/ fucking cute."

"I don't think- Tony, I don't know if I can do this." Peter pressed his forehead against a window in the hallway, now from inside the school.  
"You can, and you will. If you want Michelle so badly, you'll need to start with Quentin, and progress, only then will the target /eventually/ be accessible."  
"There's-- this is too much, right now! I just- I need a minute to... Process everything."  
Peter sighed, pressing his back to the wall, and sliding into the floor, aiming a pointed glare at the squip, after a moment.  
"Alone. Can you just- get out of my head, for, like, five minutes? Please?"  
"...Of course."

"Ned? Ned! Oh, my god, it's so good to see you."  
Ned looked down at his feet, to avoid eye contact with Peter, a small sigh spilling from his lips.  
"Really? So, you haven't been avoiding me, like, all day?"  
"What are you talking about? I haven't seen you since---"  
Reactivate.  
"It's called optic nerve blocking."  
"What's going on, why haven't I seen Ned-- wait, what?"  
"I have access to your optic nerves. I have been blocking Edward from your field of vision."  
"Peter? Why're you standing there, all creepy, and stuff?"  
"Edward is a link to Peter 1.0. To upgrade, you must be willing to make sacrifices."  
"Seriously, what's wrong with you? You've been acting weird, since-- since-- holy shit. It worked!"  
Peter allowed himself a few minutes of contemplation, before looking up at Tony, and giving a small nod. "Optic nerve blocking on."  
"Smart boy." The squip smirked.

 

"Tonight's the night, kiddo. This is what we've been preparing for. Are you ready?"  
"Affirmative. I- I mean-"  
Peter laughed, rather than pouting, as he usually would, when Tony would force words from his mouth.  
To his own dismay, the squip couldn't help the fond smile that played at his lips.  
"Yeah. I got this."

Peter jumped when he felt arms around his waist, though, he relaxed, after turning his head to find it was only Quentin.  
"I was afraid you weren't coming, doll. Didn't you get my messages?"  
"Play it off."  
"Am- am I late? I didn't even notice."

"Did you see the look on his face, Tony? He thought I stood him up!"  
"-And he was so excited when he realized you hadn't. People only want what they can't have, Peter."

Peter's jaw dropped when Michelle entered the room.  
She looked nothing short of stunning in that dress - that's not to say she didn't look perfect all the time.  
"Sorry, I'm late."  
"I didn't even notice." Brad shrugged.  
"Oh... Okay. Hey, wait, I thought we were going as prince and princess?"  
"We are. I'm Prince. What are you supposed to be?"  
"It's an authentic Renaissance... Never mind." She sighed.  
"Ohh... You want a drink?"  
"Um... Okay."  
"Cool, they're over here."  
Peter was infuriated at seeing Brad leave Michelle alone like that, but with Tony's help, he didn't take long calming down.

"I'm supposed to get you. Quen has a surprise," Wade stated plainly, grabbing Peter's wrist to drag him along with him, without further explanation.  
"What- what kind of-"  
"The kind where you don't ask questions, and follow me upstairs."  
"U- um- okay, but-"  
"Quiet, Peter."

"Brad's parents' room. Don't worry. They're not using it."  
"You- you really know your way around."  
"Yeah. I've fucked him in every room in this house. There was this one time--"  
"Okay! Thanks, but-- um, anyway, when's Quentin coming?"  
Wade lifted a flask to his lips, only to choke, due to the laughter Peter's words had emitted.  
The boy cocked his head.  
"What?"  
"Oh my god, you're so fucking cute, baby boy."  
"What do you--"  
"Quen's not coming," Wade whispered, his lips curling into a smirk.  
"He's not? Then why--"  
Wade hummed, pushing Peter backwards onto Brad's parents' bed, and crawling atop him.  
"Do you wanna hang?"  
"I- please- please move. I have to go."  
A pause.  
"I can't move. Why can't I--"  
"You're welcome."  
"I get why he's so crazy about you. You're adorable. Those big, innocent doe eyes, that cute stammering thing you do, when you get all nervous, and /god,/ that ass--"  
"I should get back."  
"You know I could treat you better. He'd be a shitty boyfriend. Hell, he's a shitty friend. He's crazy manipulative, you know--"  
"Oh my god. You're jealous of Quentin."  
"Um, obviously not."  
"That's crazy! Why would you be jealous of anyone? You're the hottest guy in school! Did I just say that out--"  
Wade leaned forward, and before Peter could react, their lips were pressed together, Wade's tongue already intertwining with his own.  
Peter gasped, using his best efforts to pull away.  
"Whoa! Tony, make it stop!"  
"I don't understand the request."  
Wade pulled away with a hum, licking his lips.  
"Do you wanna stop being coy, already?"  
"Please, I need to leave."  
Wade grabbed for his flask, and held it to Peter's lips.  
"I'm- I don't dri--"  
The older forced it into his mouth.  
"Sorry, what was that?"  
When the flash was empty, Wade carelessly tossed it aside.  
"How're you feeling, sweetie?"  
"I- please, stop."  
A knock at the door caused Wade to groan.  
"Peter? Are you in there, honey? Liz said she saw you come up here. Petey pie?"  
When the knocking had stopped, and Quentin had left, Peter released a breath he hadn't known he was holding.  
"If Liz saw us-"  
"Liz can mind her own fucking business, yeah?"  
"Quentin's going to find out. Don't you care?"  
"You're less cute when you're talking."  
"Hey! Help me out, here!"  
"Konichiwa!"  
"I- uh, what?"  
"I'm sorry, Peter. Alcohol temporarily scrambles my-"  
"/Then why the fuck did you make me drink it?/"  
"To get you laid, dipshit, I- fuck. You'll thank me, later."  
Peter groaned, only to sigh in relief at realization he could move, now.  
He began worming his way out from under Wade, but the older was quick to grab his wrists, and pin them together over his head.  
"Where ya goin', Petey?"  
"Wade, please-"  
"Please, what, exactly?"  
Wade forced his thigh in between Peter's with a smug smirk, emitting an involuntary, shaky moan from the smaller.  
"P- please! Please, stop!"  
"Really? Those pretty little sounds you're making say otherwise--"  
Another, much louder knock at the door, and Wade dropped his head, groaning yet again.  
"Peter Benjamin Parker!"  
"Ohh, the fun begins." Wade sighed defeatedly, before finally releasing Peter's wrists, and sliding aside.  
"Is- is that Brad?"  
"Peter, I know you're not fucking in my parents' bed, because if you were, I'd have to rip your dick off!"  
"Great! Then, you can both be dickless!" Wade shouted back, crossing his arms.  
"...Wade?"  
"Yeah, what about it, cocksucker? Can you hear that? I'm pounding Peter into your parents' linens!"  
"He's not! I swear, we're-"  
A twist to Peter's nipple caused him to cry out.  
"Can you hear him? He's /so/ much better than you, Bradley."  
Peter's eyes darted around cautiously, and he visibly relaxed at the silence.  
"...Maybe he believed me, and went away?"  
"Kei-koku, kei-koku!"  
"What-"  
At the sight of Brad, Wade practically pounced back onto Peter, latching his lips onto the younger's neck, and biting down considerably roughly.  
"F- fuck! Stop!"  
"You're fucking /dead,/ Parker."  
"Fuck off, Brad, we're busy fucking," Wade deadpanned.  
After a few moments of relentless fighting, Peter managed to shove Wade off of him, before running to the door, and opening it to Quentin.  
"...Peter?"  
"Quentin, I-"  
"Parker!"  
"I'm- I'm sorry."  
He, as gently as possible, pushed the older out of the way, and ran downstairs, of course, followed by Brad.  
"I'll fucking kill you, Peter! Oh, my- fuck, I shouldn't have had so many Peach Schnapps."


End file.
